Son of Mars
by Shadow-Ocelot
Summary: In exchange for Boone's life the Courier gives up her own freedom, agreeing to become Caesar's personal slave. Will she find the emperor a bloodthirsty dictator, or just a man?
1. The Price of Freedom

Disclaimer If I owned it there would have been a lot more missions on the Legion side of things...

Author's Note Okay, so I'm trying to sleep last night when BLAM I suddenly get the idea for this little fic and I can't help but start writing it which shocked the hell out of me because its going to center around Caesar of all people. I don't even like him... _like that_. Jeez, but the storyline for this is too damned interesting for me to pass up. Its going to end up being both a Courier/Caesar and a Courier/Boone story. I don't know how to describe other than that, because if I did it might ruin it. However the Boone in this will only be at the beginning and end. I'm already halfway through the next chapter as well, considering this one was fairly short because its a prologue, but I'm going ahead and posting it while I finish up the other. "Son of Mars" is more of a working title right now which I may keep or not. Oh and for anyone reading Imperium et Libertas, I am 8 pages into the next chapter, I just need a little break to clear my head before I finish it up and polish it. No worries, for I will be updating that soon! R&R.

_Happy St. Patrick's Day!_

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Prologue****_  
The Price of Freedom_**

The coppery smell of blood hung heavy in the air. It was the first thing she noticed as she began to come to. The slick wet feeling on the back of her head coupled with the throbbing that seemed to radiate from her skull in the same central location told her that this might be one explanation for the blood smell. At least it was her own; she at least hoped she was the only one bleeding. She groaned and opened her eyes to see that the ground was moving. On second inspection she realized that it was not the ground but her that was moving, aided by two men who were dragging her, one on each side. Their hands were firm and unforgiving, fingers pressing into her soft flesh. And she knew that they had every reason to deny forgiveness from her because she had just killed quite a few of their brethren. Well, not just her, she had had help, but she had been the ring leader, which made her feel even worse that she had gotten her companion into this mess.

_Boone_!

She struggled in her captors' arms, trying to twist around to get a look at who was being brought with her. The man to her left jerked the elbow in his hand as his fingers bit even deeper into her skin. "Settle down, profligate." She recognized the usually placid voice of the Legion officer Vulpes Inculta, and knew that it was strained with fury. He hadn't been the one to strike her in the back of the head. This she was sure of because he had been the last thing she'd seen before passing out. However, he had taken it upon himself to be one of the ones that escorted her unconscious body back to Caesar. From the pain he was inflicting she could tell he wished he _had_ been the one to knock her out.

"Boone." She murmured.

"Here." Came the grim voice of the recon sniper. Thank God, at least he was alive!

The Courier couldn't promise though that either one of them would remain alive for long after this though. She supposed that that Benny would be the end of her after all. His bullets couldn't kill her, but that goddamned charisma had. For some reason, against everything that logic was telling her she had actually tried to save the man that tried to kill her. It had started on the Strip when she had met him in the Tops. They'd talked and then they'd… _more than talked_ and somehow she had gotten a small inkling of feeling for him. She hadn't fallen for him, but she had begun to see him as a person in a precarious position. He became a human being as opposed to the many wandering fantasies she'd had of him being a coldhearted attempted murdering monster.

In hindsight she should have killed him in his sleep and walked away. She would have pocketed the chip she had sought so desperately for months and when she and Boone had went to the Fort to get into that Bunker they would have walked out with not a scratch. Sure it had been hard to convince Boone to not fire on the Legionaries as they came up on Cottonwood Cove, and it had been damned hard to get him to take off that damned beret of his and pretend for at least a little while that he didn't have a hard-on for revenge. Her plan was bigger, she explained, greater than just killing them one by one, and to get what they both wanted he would have to be patient. Boone was a smart man and saw her logic, and even though he hated it he followed her plans; he shouldn't have.

Everything was going fine, or at least she thought, until Caesar had revealed to her the presence of Benny. In the back of her mind she had known something had happened to him when Caesar handed her the chip to take down to the bunker. Her mind had been too busy with other matters at the time and she and Boone had done what they had gone there to do. Luckily the Emperor of the Legion had mistaken what they had done for what _he_ had asked them to do and they were about to leave when he offered her a gift. Her suspicions should have been aroused right then because she had slaughtered many of his men and one little favor could not have earned her his forgiveness so easily.

She was right; it was a trap.

Caesar had studied her well over her time in the Mojave, gone over every exploit until he knew her mind. Neither of them had known that in that one act he had set their fates in stone. Later she would wonder if he had known the chain of events would he have changed it all. But in that moment he did not know the future and neither did she. All the Courier saw was the stupidest man on the planet tied up on a mat, looking up at her with begging eyes. _Goddamnit, Benny, you fool!_

"You want me to kill him?" She pointed at the man in the checkered suit and the tone in her voice was one of incredulity, though it shouldn't have been because the Legion was not a place where they joked around.

"If you don't we'll do something about him, although it will most likely end in crucifixion. I would think you would like your revenge?" Caesar smiled at her and behind that smile she saw just how screwed they really were. What he really meant by asking her if she wanted her revenge was _"Go ahead and kill him because it's the last thing you're going to do."_ He hadn't been a fool after all. Even if she didn't kill Benny he was going to kill them and there was nothing they could do about. The only weapons she and Boone had on them were a couple silenced pistols they'd managed to sneak past the guards and a couple machetes they'd found lying on a table on the way back from the bunker.

Well, if they were going to die they were going to die fighting. The Courier kept up the façade until she'd untied Benny and then all Hell broke loose, or in the Legion's case maybe Hades or whatever the fuck they called Hell...

The worst part was that despite that they'd somehow managed to break through the group of Praetorian guards they only made it a little past the arena when they were finally overtaken. Boone had been vicious while trying to keep the legionaries off them, but in the end he'd been slammed back against the metal wall outside the arena. She had been trying to get to him when she felt the sharp pain in her head and saw Vulpes Inculta's smug expression as her vision faded to blackness and she collapsed in the dirt.

Now the Frumentarius had her hair bunched in his hand so tightly she thought he might be trying to pull it out at the roots. She reached up and tried to dig her nails into his hand to get him to let go; she was more than able to sit up on her knees without his help, thank you. Instead he just pulled tighter, not even showing one ounce of pain at her attempted attack. "Let go of me!"

"Shut up!" He let her go so he could backhand her, knocking her flat against the ground.

Boone almost broke free from the men at his side, snarling in anger. "Don't you touch her!"

"As much as I would like to enjoy watching you get put in your place, Courier," Caesar leaned back in his throne, smirking at her, "I've had enough of you for one day." He snapped his fingers at his men, prompting Vulpes to pull her back up to her feet; to her right the other men were doing the same to Boone. "Take them both to await execution. Tomorrow when the sun rises I want you to crucify this NCR dog," he pointed at Boone.

"No!" The Courier shrieked. Every bit of her heart shattered at the thought of him strung up like that. Adrenaline peeked in her veins and she managed to rip from Vulpes' grasp. A moment later she threw herself before Caesar on her knees, tears running down her face, "I'll do anything you want, anything, just don't kill him! Don't hurt him!"

"_Anything_, you say?" Caesar tapped his chin in thought.

"Don't you do it, Anna!" Boone shouted.

"For the love of God, I'm sorry! I'll take his place, I'll be your slave just… just let him go!"

And that was how her captivity began, an exchange of her freedom for Boone's life. It was the least she could give for the man she had come to love and respect.


	2. And Now You're Mine

KMN91: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you're interested in the story. I was actually working on it this morning when I got your review alert in the mail. I hope this chapter isn't disappointing!

Author's Notes: A few minor worries, such as being this is the first time I'm really having to write a lot of Caesar and I'm still trying to get a hang of his personality. Also, there are quite a few spots with sexual content in this chapter as well as a non-consensual act at the end. I'm sorry if this offends anyone! Since I am still playing this story by ear I have no idea the specifics of the next chapter. R&R. Thanks for the faves and alerts everyone!

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**Chapter 1****_  
And Now You're Mine_**

The Courier hadn't fallen in love with Craig Boone immediately. It had taken months for their friendship to grow, and despite his moody silences she had managed to get the most important details out of him, such as how his wife had died and how he felt about the massacre of Bitter Springs. There was something about the broken soldier that drew her like moth to flame and filled her heart with the terrible ache that came with knowing one had fallen for someone that was unavailable and would probably always be. She also knew that deep inside he had felt it, too. He had tried his best to be nice about her feelings without leading her on and so they went on like that, pretending to be nothing more than partners while she wanted more and he still grieved over a wife that she had a feeling would not have grieved so hard if something had happened to him – or perhaps that's just what she told herself to feel better about her death and the fantasies of romance she had when it was dark and she had trouble sleeping.

Watching him walk away, head and shoulders drooped in defeat, was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Just before they had let him out of his shackles Vulpes reminded him that if he tried anything funny or if he went after any more of the Legion soldiers that they would kill her, for they had eyes everywhere and would know. He was also not to have anything more to do with the NCR. Last, but most emphasized, was the order that the Courier's little band of misfits were to disband. "I had tried to teach you what would happen if you attempted to fight us," Vulpes drawled, gripping her arm and dragging her back towards the ferry.

They passed Canyon Runner, who she had only spoken to briefly once. He was the slavemaster at Cottonwood and had described his duties of processing and breaking new captures, thus turning them into worthy slaves for the Legion. A shudder rolled up her spine as he came to meet them. "I heard what happened." He said to Vulpes; the Courier was nothing now, if she had ever been anything at all. "Is she to be broken in?"

"No," Vulpes chuckled darkly, eyes drifting down to the girl in his clutches, "Caesar says he wants that pleasure for himself."

She paled, for the first time truly understanding what was happening to her. The way Vulpes had said _pleasure_ set a sick feeling in her stomach. Until then she had been ignoring the way Caesar had looked at her when he had asked her if she was willing to do _"anything"_ to save Boone. So she was to be his then. She supposed it could be worse. It could have been Vulpes, who she knew bore a hatred for her as deep as the Grand Canyon and would have made her life miserable. Or Caesar could have just given her to a random lowly recruit to use as his personal plaything and punching bag. Caesar was at least charismatic and intelligent. He was probably still going to make her life hell though.

On the way back to the Fort she tried to think of Boone and recalled the last thing that passed between them. She had been allowed one last embrace with her friend before she was pulled away. He had held her against his chest so tightly that she had felt his heart beating. "I love you." She told him. It was the first time she'd said that aloud.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, voice breaking and eyes full of sorrow as she was ripped from him. She still couldn't figure out if he was sorry that she loved him, sorry he couldn't love her back, or just sorry about the whole situation in general. It would be a mystery that would have to remain unsolved for she would never see him again.

-X-

Being trapped inside your body was a new kind of Hell for the Courier. It was the most powerless feeling in the world. Apparently it had not been enough that they had stripped her of everything that she had held dear in one day (her partner, her friends, her freedom) but they had to add insult to injury by removing her ability to even voice her displeasure at the situation. Caesar had been waiting for her when she came back from seeing Boone off. He motioned for she and Vulpes to follow him into his sleeping quarters. She had been hesitant, but good old Vulpes helped her out by pushing her inside. He had been promptly excused, leaving her with only the Emperor and two other men. "Hey, if you're looking for a foursome or some other kind of kinky shit I just want to let you know I'm not interested." She was trying to maintain some kind of sense of humor. He could not be allowed to break her so easily.

"Quiet." One word and that was all it took. He didn't shout it; he didn't have to. Anna gulped and wrapped her arms around her chest, shivering. When he was satisfied her tongue was tied he said, "remove all of your outer clothing please."

"What? No!"

He stepped forward and grabbed her chin in his hand and she was surprised by how strong his fingers were. "This can be done the easy way or the hard way."

Anna had no idea what was about to be done, but she hoped to God it wasn't what she was thinking, especially with two other men in the room. Then again she'd met people with stranger proclivities. James Garrett and his damned robot fetish popped into her head. The thought usually made her smile but today it just made her that much more depressed because, even though they hadn't been that close, she still would never see him again either. It was all the little things in her life culminating into one great loss and it was becoming more than she could take. She lifted her hand and gripped his wrist, the one attached to the hand holding her jaw, and glared up at him defiantly.

"So be it." He shoved her away into the arms of one of the waiting Legionaries. As the cloth covered her mouth she knew he had planned for her rejection. She had expected chloroform on the rag, but found something gritty, a powder. Unable to keep from breathing in she inhaled the powder into her nose and mouth. It tasted strange and foreign and she tried to fight against the man who held her. The fight got her nowhere, for even by himself the man would have been able to take her, but with another helping him they were able to wrangle the struggling woman onto the empty table in the room. When she began to feel the effects of the weird powder she realized the fight had been won the second the cloth had first went over her face. It seemed the longer she struggled the weaker she got and soon her muscles weren't responding at all.

Temporary paralysis. Whatever they had used was meant to pacify her and it worked like a charm because she lay on the table as docile as a newborn kitten. Her breathing was shallow, causing her worry that it might stop her lungs or heart as well. It must have shone in her eyes because his next words did not sound so harsh. "The sedative has been tested. Only in the beginning, before we registered the proper dosage, did we lose people. You are safe."

She felt like she was far from safe in this place, but he meant she was not going to die and that she took a little solace in. Giving up was not a part of her repertoire. That should have been obvious when she hadn't stayed in the grave, so the thought of just wanting to lie down and die, take the 'easy way' out of this situation was not an option. Even when the Emperor took a knife from a tray that the other Legionaries were setting up with different archaic looking tools her resolve did not waver. He slipped it beneath her shirt and cut up the cloth with one long glide. After that he sliced open the arms on both sides and lifted her so that he could remove the cloth and discard it on a nearby chair. The air meeting Anna's bare skin made her feel vulnerable. The idea that these men would look upon her in her bra was uncomfortable. Considering her circumstances it should have been a silly, trivial thing.

If her muscles had been working properly she would have jumped when Caesar's fingers came down on her skin. He was talking with the other men now while tracing a pattern on the lower right side of her stomach. Despite the curling tips and gentle curve of one of the lines she could tell he was making the X sign where he wanted it. The red X: the symbol of the Legion slave. Apparently his version for her was a little more elaborate than the crudely and hurried version seen on the other slaves. Naturally, Caesar was a narcissist and he could not have his property be below par. It made sense now why she had been drugged in this fashion. He had wanted her still enough for them to tattoo the mark on her and when she refused to cooperate plan B was enacted. _Bastards_.

It took them about twenty minutes or more, it was hard to tell time like this. She forced herself to watch the ceiling (not that she had a choice), not even being able to blink away the tears that brimmed in her eyes. If she could have only screamed or cursed or told the man watching the proceedings how much she hated him she would have felt better. Verbalizing one's feelings relieved so much stress and to not be able to free those feelings caused an overflow inside her. When that medicine wore off she was going to tear his face off; damn the consequences.

She felt relief as the Legionary etching the tattoo into her skin finished and applied the bandage that would keep it clean and safe from the elements. The two quietly packed away their tools and waited for orders. "You're dismissed." Caesar told them, commenting on what a fantastic job they had done. They both nodded respectfully and left. "Finally," he purred, "we're alone, my dear."

_Just fucking shoot me._ She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. Of course even if she could have he probably would have told her something like that was unnecessary now because that's what he had her for. Then she would have just gotten more pissed off and upset.

Speaking of pissed off and upset he had that knife in his hand again and was studying her body with great consideration. She swore to herself that if he cut her with that thing she was coming off that table and jamming it down his throat, magic powder or no magic powder. "Between you and me I have been thinking of something like this for quite some time. Imagine my surprise when I heard that you had accepted my invitation. To be honest I was a little apprehensive about the meeting." One of his fingers hooked under the small connecter in her bra that rested in the dipped valley between her breasts and lifted it up a few inches. With a slight tilt of his head he placed the blade against it and cut. She wanted to scream as if she'd been cut. He had no right! He had no goddamned right. Yet the tingling itch on her belly told her that in his world he did have a right.

"Quite preposterous really to feel that way," He continued, knife flicking each cup to the side to grant him full view of two of her greatest assets. Anna had always been self-conscious about them for reasons she never quite understood. Men seemed to find them more than suitable for their tastes, even the picky ones. Still she couldn't get that thought out of her head that men preferred women with grapefruit sized breasts that almost burst from the seems of their dresses, breasts that they could roll around and play with, had to squeeze with both hands. Wasn't it about quantity in this department?

"Twenty years ago I got it in my head I wanted to raise an army and I did. I do not see why the conquest of a woman would be any different. To think I had no idea how I would possess you if I so decided that was my wish!" With his free hand he followed the curve of her neck down to her collarbone. For a few seconds he traced the line of it across her shoulders and chest, and then continued lower until his fingertips rose over the swell of one of the newly freed mounds of flesh, thumb immediately finding the erect tip.

"I think that the legend-like stories that surrounded you had even gotten into _my_ head. How foolish of me." His eyes flickered up to hers, watching her reaction concerning both his physical and verbal ministrations. "But you're just a woman – an exquisite woman." His hand cupped the breast he'd been molesting and held it with an almost curious manner, his caress more gentle and exploitative than she could have thought possible for a Legionary. Then again he wasn't quite a Legionary, he was _the_ Legionary, the master, the creator. The Legion was his brainchild and it had become powerful and potent.

Anna's lips trembled with a pitiful mewl and she took a deep breath. Her faculties were beginning to come back now, but she was too weak to even try to move. She wanted to beg him to stop touching her; her pride wouldn't allow her to utter a word, if she even could. There was no way she was going to show him how much this was bothering her.

"You belong to me now. In time you will come to appreciate your position here." He let his eyes drift down her stomach to the bandage, fingers following that gaze and then continuing on to the waistband of her pants. With the earlier bout of struggling they were somewhat askew on her hips and pulled a bit lower than she would have liked. His discovery oriented digits roamed across skin she wished he hadn't been able to touch. She heard the soft clatter of the knife being laid down on top of her ruined shirt beside him. Gleefully she found she could tilt her head to follow his movements. The powder was wearing off. However a small hiccup of panic ran through her prone form as his hands returned to her belt and skillfully unclipped the clasp and then slipped the top button from the hole that held her pants closed.

She whimpered, an involuntary shudder passing over her and causing her muscles to tense and jump. "No." She breathed. "Please." Screw her pride.

He paused. "Please?"

"Please don't." She felt so frail, so _weak_.

Caesar chuckled at her as if finally realizing what thoughts were racing through her head. "Oh, I'm not going to do anything to you… not yet." With that assertion he continued to work at the tight leather that fit her like a second skin below her waist. She hated the way his hands traveled over her, stroked intimately up her thighs like he had a lover's pass. The only thing he didn't do was make any kind of indication he was interested in the warm juncture between her legs. That mystery was solved when he allowed his knuckles to slide precariously close and then smirked even darker when the fear flickered through her eyes. He was teasing her, playing off that fear of his future conquest of her. They both knew it wasn't a matter of if, but of _when_. "As much as I like this leather on you we're going to have to find you something more suitable for an Emperor's concubine. Something more feminine – but demure." He added the bit on the end carefully. "I'll have to have something custom made for you."

"I'd _hate_ to embarrass you with my horrible fashion sense." She replied dryly, finally able to flex her fingers and bend her arm. The Legion ran around playing dress up and _she_ was the one being accused of not wearing appropriate attire.

"_Hm_. Indeed. And that tongue of yours. We are going to have to work on that, too."

"Like to see you try." She snorted, pushing herself up on her elbows to glare at him.

His hands slid down to her knees and without warning suddenly gripped them and dragged her down the table. When she was close enough for him to reach her he seized the back of her neck and brought her lips within centimeters of hers. "_Silence, woman_." He growled before crushing a passionate kiss to them. Anna tensed in his grasp and tried to squirm away but the hold on her neck was like iron. That hold only cemented itself when his other hand was placed on her back pulling her forward, making her all too aware that her legs were hanging off the table, one on each side of his waist. Her muffled cries of protest came out sounding like moans of pleasure. A few moments later she wasn't sure that they weren't.

Somehow he urged her mouth open just enough to coax their tongues into a battle of supremacy. The sweet tastes of Nuka-Cola and sugar caressed his senses, leaving him wanting more, but knowing now wasn't the time to take it. He was just proving a point. One he could tell she was slowly getting and hating for she began to fight him again, the look in her eyes telling him she was full of self-loathing for letting her guard down even one instant and letting the kiss continue on for even a few more seconds than necessary. "Well," he said, leaning back, "I don't think I heard a word out of you that entire time."

"You're a cheater." She snapped, but she was averting her eyes and trying not to sound breathless.

"Only because you lost." He stated, releasing her and letting her fall back onto the table. "I have other business to attend to. One of the other slaves will be coming shortly to help you get cleaned up." A slightly rough pile of fabric was dropped into her lap. "This is for you to wear."

She held it up above her to get a look at it, frowning. It was a sleeveless dress that looked long enough to go down to about her knees, shapeless and colorless – unless you counted that awful dirty tan shade a color. "_Stylish._"

"Its temporary. If you continue to complain I'll make it permanent."

Thankfully she stayed quiet this time and just folded the dress in her lap.

"While I'm gone make sure you rest – you will need it."

-X-

"_Get your rest, you'll need it._" Anna mocked under her breath, mind turning to her so-called master's instructions before they had parted. _You wish._ She thought to herself, head hanging off the side of the large bed just enough for her hair to swing freely back and forth. Earlier the thought of him making advances towards her had been turning her into a shuddering pile of courier goo, and not because she found the idea pleasant. There was actually a nagging portion in her mind afraid that she might actually like it, which would mean she'd have to kill herself. After a nice scrubbing down and some time to recuperate her mind she was feeling quite confident and strong now. She believed if he walked through that door she could truthfully tell him that she wasn't afraid and that he could do his worst.

She might have lost her freedom, but she refused to let him take what little dignity she had left by giving up without a fight. If he wanted to turn her into his little toy he'd have to earn it. In a way she felt he didn't take her seriously as an opponent, not before her capture and certainly not after. He treated her like a silly little girl who'd gone out to play with the big boys and then fallen and scraped her knee. He was waiting for her to start crying, to admit she had been bested. That wasn't going to come, not now, not _ever_. That swaggering self-important act of his might work on his underlings and the slaves. It would take something far more powerful to bring this courier down.

Absently she found herself combing her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair, thinking of the girl that had been sent to help her wash up. Her name had been Decima, and she had been so meek and soft-spoken. And even though Anna was technically a slave, too, the girl had never once met her gaze. She'd tried to be helpful, telling her to just do as 'Lord' Caesar told her to do and she would make it just fine. "He is not so bad really," the girl had said softly, helping her get to a particularly tough patch of dirt on her back, "not compared to some of the raiders and other slavers out there. I've seen him show mercy, even to us slaves. Do not anger him."

Anna wondered if she had been told to say that or if she was just so brainwashed she didn't know a sociopath when she saw one. Still, the girl seemed nice and she didn't want to hurt her feelings so she just nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

When they finished she noticed the girl studying her closely. Her fingers hovered just over the mark on her stomach. She had seemed to notice its intricacies while changing out Anna's bandage. "He intends to keep you for a long time, you must know this." Decima said. "You don't realize how special you are, I can tell, but you need to know that since I've been here Caesar has never taken a slave of his own. Nor have I heard tell of him ever doing so before."

_Special?_ Yeah she supposed that was the word for this situation. Anna snorted. "Like I believe he doesn't use his power to take whatever woman he wants."

Decima actually smiled at this. "I didn't say he hasn't brought women up here, but none of them has ever stayed. They would be used and then sent right back to their proper places. He's also never taken interest in the same woman twice. The fact he has set his sights on you is a big deal. There must be something about you that has attracted his attention other than your beauty."

Beauty, what? Now Anna laughed. "Please, now I know you're kidding me. I'm not beautiful at all. I'm dirty, vulgar, shapeless, and, oh yeah, I have a horrible scar on my head from where I've been shot."

"It doesn't matter what you think of yourself, but you ought to know that more than a few of the legionaries are jealous that Caesar has chosen you for his own. They're hoping he'll tire of you or that you'll mess up so he'll discard you." Decima explained. "However I see that as unlikely given to how much trouble he's going to concerning you. That mark for one, its not just because he likes pretty things. You're his prize and he wants to make sure he gets to enjoy you for as long as possible. Concubines are a serious deal, Anna. They're very rare."

"What's the difference?" Anna muttered. She'd heard Caesar call her his concubine earlier, and knew vaguely what that word meant. Yet in the context of the Legion she wasn't sure if it would be the same. To her a concubine was just a sex slave.

"Slaves are just meant to do the bidding of their masters. Concubines… " Decima thought carefully, trying to consider a way to phrase this so that Anna could understand. Not being from the Legion and understanding their ways gave her a huge disadvantage when dealing with this situation. "In the Legion one cannot marry outside of their stature. In the case of Legionaries they cannot marry because all women are below them. Concubines are permanent companions. They're the closest thing to a wife that we have. As I said they're rare. You may not understand this, but you've been given an _honor_. Some of us would kill to be put in that kind of position."

Anna stared at the floor, quite unsure how to take this. "You're saying I'm his mistress?"

"Precisely." Decima nodded. "I would advise you get used to life here and try to get along with him. He can make your life extremely comfortable. Or he can do the exact opposite. Its all up to you."

"I can't just let him control me."

Decima shrugged. "Soon you'll see. Hopefully you realize how good you can really have it here."

Anna realized she had been twisting her hair around her finger as she recalled the conversation. When she released it the strands fell into a series of ringlets for a few seconds before evening out. These slaves might thing she was going to live some cushy life up here but she knew better. Caesar and the Legion were monsters and she was not going to fall prey to their bullshit teachings. She was just a living, breathing war trophy to Caesar, that was all.

-X-

It was night before Caesar returned. Anna had almost dozed off a few times during her stint of isolation, but had found it easy to maintain consciousness by concentrating on the sounds of the Fort, both the unpleasant and the pleasant. She was listening to the Legion canine troops howling off to her left somewhere and closed her eyes, pretending she was somewhere in the middle of the Mojave, Boone tucked safely away in his sleeping bag and Rex curled up by the fire, ears pricked to his four-legged comrades voices. The fantasy was shattered quite suddenly by a cacophony of angry shouts and Anna sat straight up in bed as Caesar, Lucius, and Vulpes marched into the room.

"I don't give a damn what his excuses are!" Caesar snarled. "You tell him to take care of it or he'll find himself sharing the side of the road with the rotting profligates! Then the only thing he'll have to worry about is whether he'll die of heat-stroke or dehydration first."

"Yes, sir." Vulpes said. "I was only reporting what was told to me."

Caesar rubbed his temples with a sigh, his anger diffusing a few levels. "I know. I wonder if some of these men are forgetting how it's like to be a real soldier, what with the NCR cowards running away from ever battle. This cannot continue. Tell him that he and his men are to find an answer to this problem, and soon, or I'll defer it to you, and if I have to do that…" The threat hung in the air.

Vulpes nodded. "I will do that right away." The Head of the Frumentarii turned to go, pausing only an instant to catch Anna's gaze. By the surprised expression on his face she knew he had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be there. Luckily that was as far as it went and he disappeared from sight.

"It's been a long day, Lucius, my friend. I want a little peace and quiet so if you can make sure I remain undisturbed for the rest of the night I will be thankful. I was hoping to get to know our new citizen." Caesar told his head bodyguard.

"Of course." Lucius said and also ducked out of the bedroom, leaving the two alone.

Anna crossed her arms over her chest and regarded the leader with a smug smirk. "Trouble in paradise, _master._"

Her sarcasm was not lost on him and he turned to glare at her. "I will give you one warning and that is all. I am not in the mood for your insolence."

"Aw, really? Poor baby has a headache?" She prodded, a faux sweetness twisting her voice. He had all the signs of an approaching migraine, possibly a really bad one. "You want me to feel sorry for you? Want me to rub your shoulders or ask you how your day was? Well, fuck that!" Her doe-eyed innocence melted away as her eyes narrowed. "Boohoo, big deal. You have a headache, you don't feel good, your pathetic little army not shaping up for you? Guess what? I nearly had my head caved in yesterday and now you want to make me your personal little fucktoy… You're not getting an iota of pity from me. I hope it hurts, you bastard."

His lips pressed into a thin line. She could see the furious tension in his muscles as he barely controlled his anger. She should have been scared, but all she felt was a little bit of pride at having got under his skin so quickly. For a few moments he was silent as he began to remove his armor and place it neatly on the table. The technical part of her found her eyes drawn to the action, not because he was undressing, but because she was curious as to how it all fit together. Finally he spoke, "put out the lights."

"That an order?"

He just leveled an icy gaze at her and she found herself suddenly uncomfortable. She slipped off the bed and started to do as he asked as he continued to take off his armor in silence. He finished before she did and just stood watching her until the last candle was snuffed out. Then she felt the true fury of the might Emperor of the Legion. His hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her over to him. She gave a cry of surprise and tried to wrench free but only managed to get herself shoved over the table, pinned between him and the unyielding wood. "Its one of many, learn to follow them." He hissed.

"_Make me_."

The hand in her hair let go to clamp around her throat, fingers squeezing just enough to cut off her air, but not enough to do any permanent damage. Her eyes widened with panic, hands desperately trying to pry off his grip. He was too strong for her, a reminder that he wasn't just the leader of this army in figurehead, but also had the ability to give a good battle of his own. He wasn't in bad shape. In fact, for his age he was in pretty damned good condition. Admiration for his prowess however was the last thing on her mind at that moment. Especially when she felt his other hand push beneath the hem of the dress she was wearing and slide up her thigh. Nimble fingers hooked the corner of her underwear and dragged them down her legs. He dropped them on the table above her head with a dark smile. "You won't need these anymore."

Adrenaline washed through her system and despite the lack of oxygen getting to her blood she had enough strength to twist her body and get her knee in between them as leverage. It took everything she had just to push him the few inches she got, but it was enough to break free and roll off the table onto the floor. A sharp cry followed the sting in her knee as she slammed into the ground. The pain would have to be ignored for the time being. She scrambled away from him, although she had no clue where she'd go. She had no weapons, no possessions, and there was no way the legionaries would let her get far. They'd drag her right back and he'd probably be more pissed than he was now. _He's got the power, Anna, what the hell are you doing fucking with him like you are! You're going to get yourself killed._ Any resolve she had had from her previous pep talk disappeared. She had kept underestimating him and now he was going to punish her for it.

His hand caught her shoulder and turned her around. That's when he struck her across the jaw, sending her sprawling on her back. "Stop with your petty attempts to maintain control. It's insulting. Not just to me but to yourself."

Her hand came up to touch her face. "You… you hit me."

"Don't sound so victimized. You were warned."

"You hit me." She repeated, eyes wide with surprise.

"Because you fought me." It was a simple answer. He reached down and pulled her to her feet. "Now," his fingers gripped her sore jaw, holding her head in place as he looked into her eyes, "its been a terrible day and its been a long time since I've had any worthy female company."

Anna tried to shake her head. She didn't even care that she was crying now. "Please don't do this. I'm sorry. Forgive me. I'll make it up to you, I will, just… not now."

His laugh was more like a bark of malice as he dragged her over to his bed and pushed her down. There was no sign that he felt sorry for her in the slightest, and really, why should he? Wasn't she supposed to be there for his wants and desires, not the other way around? At first Anna had thought she would be able to at least distract him from his thoughts of bedding her, but now she saw that had been a waste of time. She realized that in a way she actually had no right to even argue about this because she had offered herself to him on a silver platter. Yes, she had done it to save Boone's life, and she had fully intended to deal with whatever consequences came her way, but for some naïve reason she had thought she would have some time to adjust before something like this. _That just makes you the biggest idiot in this situation then._

He leaned over her, calloused hands scraping across her delicate skin as he pushed her dress up passed her hips. She whimpered as he settled himself between her knees and pushed her thighs apart. "Don't hurt me." She hated how not like herself she sounded. The Anna she knew would have never begged a man like this, she would have just kicked his ass and showed him who was boss. The only problem with that scenario was that she was no longer the boss. Caesar was, and he knew it.

Her breath caught in her throat when she felt the tip of his erection pressing at her entrance. She was nowhere near ready for him, but that didn't seem to be an issue in his eyes, considering what he told her next. "In spite of the bad mood I'm in I gave you a chance to receive my mercy tonight, but you threw it back in my face."

"_I'm sorry._" She whispered, turning her head away from him.

"You're not sorry, not yet, but you will be." He clutched her hips and drove himself into her. The scream he wrenched from her lips was beautiful, like music. "Did that hurt, my pet?" He purred, stroking down the side of her face with one finger. "Shall we try it again?" Beneath him she trembled in pain and fear, a moan of discontent rumbling in her chest as he almost pulled all the way out and then slammed back in. She continued to cry as he repeated a few more times, making sure each one was as jarring and painful as the last.

"Stop." Anna sobbed.

"You also lost the ability to have any say in the matter." He growled, pinning her hands above her head and stretching his body along hers. The feel of her skin against his was like reaching an oasis after such a long time in the desert. Slave women didn't compare to this feeling. His conquered courier was healthy and supple, flesh taut over just the right amount of feminine muscle, and deliciously warm and tight around him. He buried his head in the crook of her neck as he set his pace inside her, inhaling her scent. It was a mix of wind-blown earth, sweat, and a natural spice of her own. Along with it also came the faint smell of blood, leaving him wondering if he had been too rough with her after all, because he knew without a doubt that she wasn't at all innocent.

As soon as that potentially guilty thought came he dismissed it. She had asked for this with her cruel words and her insolent disobedience. If he gave her a break this early she would learn nothing. Quite sad really because even though he was punishing her she had also won in a way for making him lose his cool like this. Hopefully she would learn her lesson this time. The tears staining her face and the shaking of her body indicated that perhaps she had.

It was frustrating when the fatigue of the day and his own pain came into play, forcing him to finish the lesson a little earlier than he had intended. He switched his angle and gripped her body close to his as each thrust brought him closer to the brink of his own climax. He could tell his partner was in a state of considerably less pleasure, which, once again, was her own fault. It did not stop him from enjoying the euphoria that flooded his system when he spilled inside her or the small aftershocks that tingled across his skin. "If you learn how to behave maybe next time won't be so unpleasant for you." He stroked her hair and laid a kiss on her neck before turning away from her.

Anna flinched at his touch and cursed the mockery of a kiss he had given her. She didn't think she could hate him anymore than she already had, but she had been wrong. Curling into a ball she pulled her dress all the way down and brought her knees up to her chest, hoping the warmth of the position would ease the pain she was in. It sickened her that he had enjoyed every moment of what he had done to her. _Sadist._ And his promise that there would be a next time, _of course_ there would be a next time. To keep her mind off of that she concentrated on silencing her sobs and keeping her body from trembling so hard.

She wanted to die.


	3. Contest of Wills

Zombee Monster Don't feel bad for wanting to know what happens next. :P Since I'm writing this story as I'm going along without much of an idea of what's going to happen except a few major points I'm kind of wondering what's going to happen, too!

Falloutkitten Aww, thank you! I definitely don't plan on stopping anytime soon!

Insane Mayonnaise Yeah, the pairing came as a surprise to me, too. In a way it actually kind of makes sense depending upon the situation. And thanks for saying my Caesar was spot on! I struggled with him a little bit.

Keep enjoying, folks!

_P.S. HOLY GEEZUS! FINALLY ABLE TO POST THIS. Damn Error No. 2! Lol_

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Chapter 2**_**  
Contest of Wills**_

Morning came and found the unlucky courier curled up in a chair. Sleep had proved impossible after her "punishment," for she could not rest knowing the man who had harmed her was in the same bed with her. Every moment was like a nightmare she couldn't wake from. She ended up slipping quietly to one of the more comfortable chairs in the room and drew herself up there, eyes watching the slumbering dictator with malice. She found solace in playing elaborate murder fantasies over and over in her head; they didn't even have to end in her escape so long as he was dead and it had been painful. Eventually her thoughts of violence lulled her into what semblance of rest her mind would allow, releasing her from her bodily prison for at least the length of her slumber.

It was Caesar that brought her back. He hadn't spoken to her, or touched her, or was even awake. He had just moved in his sleep and her senses had caught the movement. Like a prey animal her instincts had gone into overdrive, allowing her a hypersensitive awareness of her surroundings. If she had known that this had happened she would have thought her pathetic spiral was complete, but like all the other times she had awakened due to some small noise or change in surroundings she was left confused as to her sudden wakefulness. Boone had never told her, although he knew, that what she called being a light-sleeper was really an internal fear response. He had never mentioned it because he had also realized that she had no idea that she was afraid. No need to bring it up if it wasn't a big deal, for he would always be there to protect her.

Or so he thought.

Anna rubbed the little crusts from the corners of her eyes and blinked at the dim morning sunlight that managed to filter through the thick material into the room. There had been the small hope that she would wake up back in her bed at the Lucky 38. The chance of that had been even smaller than her chance of ever being loved in return by her sniper partner. The one she had given her freedom for. Goddamnit. She always did this. Her father had called it the "too nice" disease, which most of her family had suffered from. They would give the shirts off their backs for others, especially if they felt that the person deserved it. Boone had deserved his life, Anna would not argue that, but once more her kindness had gotten her into a jam. This one she knew she would probably not escape from.

It wasn't long until Caesar really woke up and she pretended to be asleep again. For a while he seemed to ignore her presence, as if he had forgotten about her, but she knew that couldn't be true. She could hear him getting dressed and then moving around gathering some things together. Finally he walked to the door, but stopped and looked back. "I know you're awake." He said; his tone sounded tired, as if he hadn't slept at all. "Decima will be back later today. You have a lot of work to do."

Her eyes opened and she sat up straight. "What kind of work?"

"Learning our ways." He informed, and then added, lips actually quirking into a little smile, "Leaning how to _not_ be such a pain."

How dare he! He was the one who took _her_ prisoner, struck her, and then raped her, but yet _she_ was the one who was a pain? Anna was so taken aback by rage that she couldn't find her voice until after he was already gone and by then it just felt idiotic to yell at an empty room. Instead she just let out a frustrated cry and punched the chair as hard as she could. Her hand would hurt for the rest of the day.

-X-

Decima arrived around noon to find Anna stretched out on the table with a book she had found stashed away in Caesar's personal belongings. It was the least he could do after what he had put her through – and what she knew was probably yet to come. If he got pissed off at her for going through his things then maybe he should have told her to keep out of them. She _was _just a lowly slave after all; sometimes you had to spell it out for them. Her mouth twisted into a malicious grin at her minor rebellion. Although his way of putting her in her place had been traumatic to say the least she was still quite determined to give him a hard time when it came to controlling her. She might have to find ways to be subtler about it perhaps; ways that didn't make him want to jerk her around or force himself on her.

Anna frowned at that last thought. It was highly unlikely that anything would change his desires toward her. She had been unable to ignore her observations of him the night before, and the one that had bothered her most was how much he had really wanted her. He had seemed like a starving man who had come across a feast of delights. The pleasure he took from claiming her body had been much more than purely physical, which spelled her certain doom she was sure. If he had just wanted her physically then she could hope that the newness of his conquest would eventually wear off and maybe he'd just stop altogether. If that happened then he could opt to make her just a servant and as belittling as that sounded to her she felt she could deal with fetching him things and taking orders as long as the threat of sexual advances had been removed.

But that wasn't the case. He had enjoyed her on a level that was more than just the body could offer. Replacing her body with someone else's wouldn't be an option. Caesar found an attraction to something deeper than her appearance or the mere fact that she had once been his enemy and now his slave. Decima's words came back to her strongly at this point. She had told her that Caesar was interested in her for more than just her beauty. _Goddamnit._ She hated it when other people were right. Decima had been right about angering the man, too. Anna didn't know if she would have done things differently knowing what she knew now, but she would certainly give the slave girl her dues when it came to knowing the Legion's leader.

If only Anna could figure out what made her so attractive, so worthy of Caesar's attentions, then perhaps she could endeavor to change it and make herself less appealing. Maybe she could _force_ him to lose interest in her. For a moment that seemed like a plan, until she thought of the distinct possibility that maybe _he_ didn't even know why he wanted her so badly. And if he didn't know she certainly was going to have a hard time figuring it out. This was going to take awhile and until then she would have to suffer through his chauvinism, his ego, and, much to her disgust, his libido.

_I hate my life._

"Good morning." Decima said. The little dark-haired girl smiled at Anna. She had a small bag with her, which she placed on the edge of the table.

Anna closed the book and scooted off the table, a hiss escaping her as she realized she had moved too fast and had aggravated the pain between her legs again. She thought that by morning she'd feel better, but he had really worked her over. It would be a few days before the ache was fully gone.

"Are you all right?"

"No," Anna snarled, "I'm not all right." She sat down in one of the chairs by the table and pressed her hand against the pain, hoping the warmth of her hand would help it go away.

Decima bit her lip, her eyes telling the realization she had just had about what must have happened. "He was rough with you?"

"_Rough_, she says!" Anna barked. "No, rough is what happens when someone gets a little carried away. Try _rape._ That's what happens when a man decides to force you to do what he wants and makes you feel every bit of it fucking ten-fold!" She felt the tears welling in her eyes already. Just talking about it was bringing it back to her like it was happening all over again and she didn't want to remember that. Her hand lifted to furiously wipe them away, turning her head to the ground.

"What happened?" Decima sat down next to her, placing a consoling arm around Anna's shoulders as she tried not to break into another sobbing fit like she had last night. Anna refused to let him turn her into a quivering mass of fear. Slowly she began to tell Decima about what had occurred when Caesar returned. By the expression on the other girl's face she slowly began to wonder what her thoughts were on the issue. When she had completed the story Decima sighed. "Anna, I _told_ you to be careful."

"So I'm just supposed to let him do whatever? I'm going to turn off everything there is about myself overnight and become this humble, pathetic little shell that he can order around?" Anna was blown away by how Decima saw the world. If a man had done something like Caesar had done to her back where she had grown up he would have been strung up to a tree and hanged. It wasn't right. She didn't even care if it was acceptable in the Legion because it still shouldn't have been right _anywhere_.

"No, I'm not saying becoming someone else. I'm still who I was. You don't seem to see that life here is the same as life everywhere else. Its rough around the edges and a little more brutal, but the same kinds of things that served you out there can serve you in here. Try giving him a little respect."

"Respect! Why the hell should I respect him?" Anna was almost screaming. Her tone wasn't exactly hysterical, it was more challenging, but the rage she felt bubbled up through her words and threatened to take her over. "What has he done that's so amazing? I don't give a shit if he has a _thousand_ armies, the only thing he's done is perfected the art of mass murder and I'll be damned if I give one ounce of respect to that man! He's a goddamned monster and I'd sooner slit my own throat than bow before him!"

Decima gave a great sigh and stood up. "Okay, I was going to do this later, _after_ I gave you your haircut, but I think you really need to get out of here. If you feel up to it I need to take you on a tour of the Fort so you get to know your way around."

"I'm not just going to be stuck in here all day?" Anna pretty much thought the rest of her life was going to be spent in Caesar's tent grudgingly doing his biding.

"I thought you were supposed to be sharp-eyed or something." Decima cracked. "Did you not notice that slaves walk around? We have work to do just like everyone else and they don't have time to hold our hands and constantly boss us around. They give us our tasks and we get to them. My master told me Caesar wished for me to help you out and so when I was finished with what he had for me I came to you. If Caesar doesn't have any special orders for you I would assume you are allowed to go wherever you want, so long as they're not off limits to women or slaves."

Anna thought for a moment. Really she hadn't wanted to get to know anything about her captors, but it was a necessary thing, and she did want to get away from here for a little while. She took a pair of sandals from Decima's hands when she brought them out, explaining that they were her size. They were simple little thong sandals, but they were comfortable. "Okay. Lead the way, oh teacher of mine."

-X-

The man that was known as Caesar had traversed a proverbial wasteland in his lifetime, from a fatherless childhood, to a pointless stint among the Followers, and on to his rise to power in his creation of the Legion, and on his journey he had encountered many hardships and obstacles. The one he was currently facing was one of the worst. He had been forced to deal with unruly slaves before, but this was the first time one ever gave him pause – made him sit and think. He supposed that it was because, unlike all those other slaves, this one belonged to _him_ and in belonging to him reflected upon him and his leadership capabilities. If he could not wrangle a smart-mouthed little girl into doing what he told her to then maybe his men would start to wonder if he had what it took to continue to lead his army.

This was a viable concern because he had already heard reports of talk, more like whispers, moving among the Legion about his leadership. Some of them felt he was getting too old to lead, which not only angered him for, despite his age, his intelligence was still fully intact and that was what had brought his army into its glorious being in the first place, but also because it aggravated a personal irritation he had been trying to hide for a while. He wasn't ancient, but he was aging. Fifty-five was a hell of an age to be in the wasteland, especially when one led a vast multitude of soldiers and slaves. It quite a feat, and it was stressful. Some thought that his Legate, Lanius, would make a better and more terrifying leader. He supposed this second bit was his fault for emphasizing power and fear over intelligence. If Caesar was not careful he would end up usurping himself for a new leader with his own words.

He thought that a new day would bring some kind of insight with the bright rising of the sun, like a cosmic light-bulb turning on in his head with the solution to his problem. Not only did he awake with nothing since the fiasco that was the night before, but also he felt as weary as he had been before he had slept. He didn't exactly regret his choice to go ahead and take the ex-courier against her will, especially because it had been one of the most pleasurable experiences he'd had in a while, but it also undermined his own plan concerning her. She was a strong-willed individual and he had hoped to win her over through diplomacy, not because he cared what she thought of him or even wanted her to like him, but mostly because it would be more beneficial in the long run. What was the point in having a slave like her if she was not going to be loyal to you? He might as well be sharing his tent with an assassin in that case.

Which, by the sound of her angry voice rising up from behind him, might not be that far off from the truth. None of what she had said came as a surprise to him, from the lack of respect she held, although he was a little disappointed she could not see what an achievement the Legion was, to her insistence that she'd rather die than pay him his dues. "Sir?" Lucius questioned, eyes flickering towards the noise.

Caesar just waved his hand in dismissal. Let her scream. "She was being rather difficult last night and apparently did not enjoy the lesson I gave her." He informed coldly.

Vulpes looked pleased at the sound of this, a smirk briefly appearing and then disappearing on his face. It was no secret he held a particular disdain for the woman. When they had first met she had managed to kill a few of his men as well as get in a decent amount of injuries on the Frumentarius. His pride had been the worst that was damaged however. Since then he'd wanted to get back at her for that. Caesar had no doubt that Vulpes was enjoying her captivity almost as much as he was. To see her come down off her heroic high horse and be forced into slavery must have made his lifetime.

A few minutes later Decima appeared, and his conquest not far behind. She didn't even look at him when she started to pass him. "Courier." He said. She froze in place and slowly turned her head to meet his gaze. When he had her attention he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She immediately dug her feet into the ground, trying to prevent him from pulling her over to him, but she failed. With his other hand he wrapped it around the back of her neck and brought her face to his level. "I know that you must still be a little sore at me for last night," he told her, and from the look of horror written across her features he knew she had to have thought his choice of wording was a bad joke, "but it was necessary. I am sorry."

_No you're not._ Her eyes told him as she yanked her arm out of his grasp and took a step back. For a few seconds they remained locked in each other's gaze. Apathy and Rage personified.

Decima was the one to break the silence, "my lord, I was thinking of taking her around to get to know the layout of the Fort, if that is ok?" She was a queen of diplomacy Decima was. Without having to tell her she had already taken it upon herself to try to be the buffer between him and his new acquisition. Not necessary, but thoughtful.

Caesar turned his eyes onto her and nodded. "That is an excellent idea. Oh, and make sure she eats." He had almost forgotten that Anna had not had a bit since before she reached the Fort before her capture, so that would make nearly two days with nothing in her stomach. The last thing he wanted was for her to grow weak from starvation.

"Yes, sir." Decima said. She took Anna's hand and guided her gently towards the exit.

When they were gone Vulpes addressed him, "why the apology if I may ask?"

Caesar smiled darkly. "You heard what she said. I'm a 'monster.' So I can either act out the part she's given me in that little head of hers _or_ I can try a new tactic, one that will make her question her own judgments." It had been quite some time since he had been able to play a worthwhile mind-game.


	4. The Scheme of Things

Function Yeah, I think that's a big struggle to reconcile the two of them to an agreement of some sort. Since I did lean her towards the technical type of individual I probably will have her fix it. The problem is getting her to the point where she _wants_ to without sabotaging it. That will take both of them letting go of a bit of ego I think.

Darkness Diablo ^^ Awww, thank you, I'm glad you enjoy my Caesar. I'm really flattered!

Super-Calisto, Jack, Harmless Wampa, and Short Ninja Definitely continuing! Hehe, with the lack of good Caesar stories around this place I almost have an obligation to keep going! Lol. That and the arrogant bastard's kinda growing on me.

CherryChipCookies You know, neither did I, but they're really working out quite fantastically!

If I missed anyone I'm sorry. I replied to everyone with reviews on the last chapter so if I missed you thank you! I really appreciate all of you. Keep enjoying.

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**Chapter 3_  
The Scheme of Things_**

After blazing a trail of carnage through the Mojave in the name of justice and freedom she was ashamed at the fear she held at the present and her uneasiness made her realize just how much she had relied on Boone and the others to have her back. She was alone now, a rabbit amidst a pack of wolves. She had no weapons, no protective clothing, and since Caesar's reminder that she had no power here she had to admit very little of that courage she had become known for. Decima led her through the twisting maze of the Fort, her words lost in the roaring that overtook Anna's brain. It was the clamoring of her thoughts as they walked, the complete awareness of everything that was around her, everything she could do nothing about. Slaves were mostly ignored, yes, which she was beginning to see, but she was no ordinary slave. Many of Caesar's men already knew exactly who she was. Their eyes lingered upon her for long periods – longer than she was comfortable with – and it made it worse that their expressions varied between smug pleasure and predatory appreciation.

Many times since that fateful night in Goodsprings when Benny had decided it was best to kill her for the platinum chip she was to deliver, Anna had doubted her own 'hero' status. The concept of her being some kind of wasteland savior was laughable, especially when she'd spent most of her life trying to stay _out_ of the limelight. Even growing up with three older siblings and two younger she had never wanted to be anything special. In fact she had enjoyed the distraction her brothers and sisters were and how they allowed her to remain mostly unnoticed. No, she wasn't unloved by her parents, but their other progeny _were_ something special and Anna knew it and was proud of them. She never wanted to take that away from them because they meant everything to her. Her best memories were from days where she would be in her little corner tinkering with some kind of gadget while she watched her family interacting; laughing, playing, just talking. Her family had been the best.

She would likely never see them again.

Regardless, when she had awakened from near-death everything had changed and whether she wanted it to or not her life had been set on a path that seemed unchangeable. Destined. Anna had always said she didn't believe in destiny because humans had free will. She felt that to say that people were just destined to be something or another was unfair, for people could choose what they did and who they became. Destiny was just another big excuse for people who had made bad choices and didn't like where they were, claiming that it had been out of their hands. However now she wondered, for looking back at everything that had happened to her since laying her hands on that chip always _seemed_ like someone was pulling some strings, placing every possible obstacle, every precarious situation in her path. It was if fate had known her personality, knew how she'd act, and knew she'd play right into her hands. Before long Anna was known as "The Courier" a heroine of the Mojave, defender of the weak and punisher of the unlawful.

If Fate really did exist she was a cruel bitch for taking away the two things that mattered the most to her: freedom and anonymity. Anna still couldn't figure out what kind of crazy fool destiny was in store if Fate wanted to lead her here into Caesar's clutches. Maybe there was no real design. Maybe Fate just got bored and thought "what the hell…"

The worst possibility was that Fate or God or the goddamn Powers that Be were some sick bastards and just decided to play a game with the mousy little techie by building her up to be some kind of legendary warrior goddess of the wastes just to laugh as they brought her crumbling down into nothing. The only problem with that was she had never bought into that whole deal. As stated previously she had doubted herself on multiple occasions. Most of her courage was just a well-played bluff that had to fool both her enemies and temporarily even herself.

When she had first struck out for Primm she'd kept a low profile and had avoided almost every fight that she possibly could. It hadn't been until Nipton that she had actually acted on any sort of battle impulse. The scene there had just been too much to ignore and between the blood boiling in her veins and the fact that she now had someone to watch her back (although ED-E was just an eyebot, but he could still kick some ass) she had been given that extra confidence to lift her shotgun and bash Vulpes Inculta right in the middle of his back, and when he turned around the battle that ensued had left most of his men dead or severely injured and the two of them had walked – limped – away bloody and at a tie. But she reminded herself frequently that she _had_ walked away.

Later that night, the not-quite-a-victory but the definitely-not-a-failure had fueled her sojourn across the waste as she tracked the Legion slavers that had taken the prisoners from Nipton. This time she hadn't stayed long in the fray, just long enough to release the prisoners and get the hell out of dodge. Anyone could tell that she was outnumbered, even more so than she had been with Vulpes' little troupe. While nursing her wounds afterward she began to wonder if between having to attack Vulpes when his back was turned and running when the stakes got too high from the raid camp if she was really cut out for trekking across the Mojave, even if it was for something like revenge. If she had been smart she would have just turned tail and went home. Job be damned! If they wanted to pursue criminal charges for losing that chip then so be it. Her life was worth more than some fucking object. She still believed that.

Yet in one of her darker moments of doubt she'd come across Novac and not only found more clues to the whereabouts of the rat that had shot her but she'd met Boone. With Boone she had felt truly safe. Although it had been early in their partnership she could already tell that he was a man of decent morals despite his insistence on blowing someone's brain out – which she completely understood. He had loved his wife and had taken her disappearance and death hard, which told her he was not only protective but also good-hearted. She knew that if anything happened he would protect her. Not just that, but she had the utmost faith that he could probably take on whatever came their way and win, and what they couldn't he would be able to guide them around. It turned out she had been right and even when the others had joined their side it had remained Boone that she felt the most comfortable beside. Outside of ED-E he had been her first companion and through all their time had come to a deep understanding of each other. It had been for this reason that she had wanted _him_ with her at the Fort at any cost.

However, the reason was not as simple as wanting an able bodied man that could help her fight off the Legionaries if things turned hostile, it was more for the other (and sometimes more important) trait he offered. A stoic man like Boone standing next to her was a deterrent for all sorts of things. Other men tended to avert their gazes elsewhere, lesser enemies avoided having to start a fight with him, and during conversation it was always useful to have him behind her, that silent wall of intimidation, the nail in the coffin that made people take her seriously. If Anna was frank with herself she knew how she looked. She was small, both in stature and in presence. There were just some people that, if it hadn't been for the sniper along for the ride, they would not even have given her their attention, much less their respect. Much like the confidence ED-E gave her back in Nipton, but much more potent, Boone gave her this invincible feeling that she/they could take on anything. She was a badass with him by her side, she _was_ that fucking warrior goddess. But that had been an illusion, and because of her foolishness he was probably back at square one, sitting somewhere blaming himself for yet another thing that had been out of his control.

-X-

Craig Boone didn't stop in Searchlight as was the usual when they were in the area, although he knew that he should. However, the thought of answering the soldier's questions about Anna's whereabouts was too much to bear. He would tell the truth and then they'd try to offer meaningless condolences. Meaningless not because they would be insincere, but because what were words like "I'm sorry" when the first person who had made you feel like you could become a part of the world again was taken away from you, and worse, by the very same people that had ripped your life to pieces in the first place. He tried to keep images of the ways Caesar might be treating his new conquest as far from his mind as possible, but they still came, and in great clarity. It was one thing that had been both a blessing and a curse for the sniper: his vivid imagination.

He also fought the urge to turn around and march right back there and blow as many as those Legion bastards away, not necessarily in a rescue attempt (he wasn't stupid enough to believe he'd actually make it), but to assuage the helpless, worthless ache he was feeling burning in his chest. It made him pitiful and lost. He had felt horrible when Carla had been taken, yet it was nothing like he felt now. Then he told himself there had been nothing he could do because he had been betrayed by someone they had trusted. Then he really had done everything he could, even down to making sure that she and their child would never live a day under Caesar's rule. The only thing that stopped him from doing so were the Courier's words, words she had spoken to him when she had gotten the full truth about his wife out of him. Of course, it hadn't been immediately, but eventually she had gotten around to laying down the law when it came to the "what if" scenario of Legion capture; neither one had thought it would ever happen. Death in battle seemed more realistic back then.

The second reason he didn't return was because he knew that as much as Caesar probably desired to have the Courier under his power he would not spend one moment of hesitation if Boone returned. He had promised to kill Anna if he tried anything and he had meant it. There was no way the NCR sniper would press his luck, or Caesar's temper. The hell he'd put Anna through before finally letting her die would be something Boone could not cause. So he kept walking, putting step after step between him and the Fort – him and Anna. _I'm sorry._

One of the worst parts was he hadn't figured out how he was going to break the news to the others. Anna and Cass had become like sisters, Raul loved her like family, and that damned dog followed her around constantly. What was going to happen now that she was gone? They were going to be heartbroken and he didn't even know how to respond to them; Boone already felt so numb.

He looked up from the train tracks to see that he was passing Novac and he sighed. Everything was reminding him of something he didn't want to remember. Novac was where he'd lost Carla, met Anna. Every road was now a well-traveled memory of their journey together, a concrete map of misery. Even these tracks he followed brought to mind Anna's face as he recalled the first day they'd set out together. She had practically skipped down these tracks toward their next destination (they'd been going to check out the NCR outpost for Ranger Andy) and although that day had ended with them finding bloodshed it was her bright smile that managed to stay in the forefront.

Old Lady Gibson's scrap yard had already come into view before he turned around and went back. Until he found himself passing a confused Cliff Briscoe and climbing the stairs to Dinky's gaping mouth he actually didn't know what he was doing. Mechanically he raised his hand and knocked on the door. Moments later he heard movement and when the door opened he was looking into the familiar face of Manny Vargas. Stunned, the other man was unsure of what to say at first, but a nervous, yet genuine smile broke out across his face. "Boone, man, its nice to see you, its been a while!"

"It has." Boone replied. And it had been. He and Anna had only returned to Novac a few times since she'd convinced him to leave with her, and none of those times had they stayed long enough for them to have any free time to chit chat. Not like he had wanted to with anyone back then. In fact he was still wondering why he was here in front of Manny, who he'd told himself he'd hate forever. He guessed that was another thing that Anna had managed to rub off on him: forgiveness.

Finally reading Boone's distressed features Vargas' expression shifted. "Hey, what's wrong? Wait, where's Anna?"

Boone sighed so deeply his chest expanded quite noticeably, and when he let it out he appeared almost deflated. "Gone. The Legion has her."

Manny reached up and plucked his own beret off his head and gripped it tightly to his chest, knuckles turning white from the tense hold. It was if Boone had told him someone had died. He supposed Anna might as well have. "What happened?"

"Its kind of a long story."

"I have time."

-X-

Later the phrase "he started it" would come to Anna's mind when having to explain the incident that happened right before they were about to return to Caesar's tent so Decima could continue her lesson in Legion history and culture. A rude voice, mumbling something inaudible, but most likely insulting if Anna read the tone correctly, interrupted them in mid-conversation as they weaved their way through a group of soldiers and slaves. A second later they were shoved rather dismissively out of the way. Being that she had encountered assholes many time before the next thing she did was more of a knee-jerk reaction, giving her no time to think about it.

"Excuse me." She growled, hand shooting out and grabbing the back of the man's worn tunic. From the harsh fabric and quality of his clothes (and of course the obvious lack in snazzy – and she used the word 'snazzy' sarcastically – uniform) she could tell he was a slave rather than a Legionary. After all she'd been through she was _not_ going to take shit from some rude jerk, especially if he was a slave. She didn't mean it in a bad way, but realized that the last thing she would get away with here was starting a fight with a soldier. She was crazy, not stupid. This asshole was a nice little gift from the Powers that Be that put her in this mess in the first place. "Can you not see people are walking here?"

"Yeah," The man spun around and knocked her hand off him. "I'm in a hurry, so if you don't mind fucking off…" He waved his hand at her as if she was a little fly to be batted away, a nuisance. Oh, well, screw him.

"In a hurry?" Anna barked a laugh. "Where the hell would you go? Get a day pass to spend a nice day on the Strip maybe?" She crossed her arms over her chest, entire body rigid as she returned his haughty attitude with fervor.

"No, I'm _working_, which is something apparently you weren't taught. They must be getting slack down there since they're sending up useless little cunts like you."

She lifted her eyebrows and tilted her head, lips drawing themselves in a fine line of disapproval and annoyance. "I wasn't 'taught' anything, buster." Anna pointed one finger at his chest and continued, "however, I would like to know how someone of _your _attitude is still running around here. You'd think they would have ass-raped you with a machete by now – unless of course they did try and couldn't because of that ginormous stick up it."

"You little whore, who the hell are you to come in here and start causing trouble." The Man-Slave looked like he was about to hit her. Let him. He had no idea what would happen. Granted, neither did she, but she guessed that Caesar wouldn't be too happy to find out someone else took it upon themselves to punish his little darling pet.

Unfortunately she never got the chance to find out. "Simus!" An authoritative voice boomed.

The slave's whole demeanor suddenly changed. It was like Anna was looking at a completely different man. His squared shoulders drooped and she swore he lost a few inches in height as he turned towards the voice. "Yes, Master, I'm right here. I'm sorry, I was on my way, but this _girl_ refused to let me pass without hassling me."

"You let yourself be stopped by a girl." The soldier growled, dark eyes analyzing Anna from head to toe. "A rather poor excuse for one at that." He added with a condescending smirk touching the corners of his mouth.

"What?" Anna balled her fists at her side. No matter how long she would be here she would never get used to their treatment of females.

Decima, who had been silent up to this point, finally stepped up and placed a hand on Anna's shoulder. "Anna, stop, let's just go. We have a lot to do."

"Yes, I'm sure you do." The soldier told them, still gazing at Anna as if she were about to do some kind of a trip. When he finally looked away it was to address Decima. "You should keep your new help under control, Decima."

"Hey!" Anna shouted, "It wasn't her fault what happened, it was his!"

"Silence!" He backhanded her, the move so sudden that it knocked her completely off her feet and onto the dirt.

"No, wait!" Decima cried, looking quite upset at the whole situation. "You shouldn't hurt her she's—"

Leaving Anna in the dirt the nameless soldier spun on Decima once more, "and _you_ should know better." He was raising his hand to strike her as well when she rushed forward to finish what she was trying to say.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but that girl is Lord Caesar's!"

"What did you say?" He dropped his hand, his voice echoing the thoughts that must have been bouncing around in that empty skull of his. It was finally sinking in that perhaps he should have thought before he acted.

Behind him Anna rose off the ground, eyes cold and vengeful. She wiped the blood off her lip from where he had struck her, and answered, "she said you just made a big mistake, asshole." And when his head turned to look at her again she pulled back her fist and did the stupidest thing since coming to the Fort in the first place; she punched him in the face.

* * *

Apologies if the end seems kind of rushed, but there was really more dialogue than action at the end except for Anna's moment of violence. I meant to have Caesar in here somewhere, but it just didn't happen. We'll say he was small-talking with Vulpes and Lucius about the silly little NCR and polishing their weapons.

-ahem-

Not _those_ weapons, get your mind out of the gutter! (You know who you are!)

**Next Chapter**: Anna faces the wrath of her Master once more. Or does she? Tune in next time to find out!


End file.
